A Little Hat Story That’s Not So Simple

Posted on 11/17/2015 by Rivkah Lambert Adler in Beliefs and Practices

In the winter of 2004, six years before we moved to Israel permanently, my family was here on a visit. Walking through the fervently Orthodox Jerusalem neighborhood of Meah She’arim, we stopped at a small U-shaped kiosk on the sidewalk. Around its sides were hats on display. Like the neighborhood, the kiosk was an extremely modest business and its proprietor was an old man.

Sunset comes early in the winter and, at that hour of the afternoon, it was already nearly dark. The (mostly black) wares on display, the diminishing light at that hour, the shabby kiosky and the old man combined to set a rather dismal mood for shopping. I quickly looked around all sides of the kiosk but didn’t see anything that suited my tastes.

Sensing that I was about to walk away without making a purchase, my youngest daughter, then age nine, yanked on my sleeve, insistently pulling me aside. “He’s so poor. You have to buy something from him, Mommy. I feel so bad for him!” she whispered urgently in my ear.

Moved by my daughter’s expression of compassion for a total stranger, I looked around one more time and settled on a simple black cotton hat with tails.

The Jewish people are characterized as rachmanim bnei rachmanim – compassionate children of compassionate parents. It is said that if a Jew lacks compassion, we are permitted to question his or her ancestry, since how can a person lacking compassion belong to the Jewish people?

During the High Holiday prayers, we ask God to switch from the Kisay haDin – the throne of strict judgement and sit in the Kisay haRachamim – the throne of compassion and mercy, when judging the Jewish people.

Rachamim is the sense of empathy for another person that goes beyond any superficial judgement. The word comes from the Hebrew word rechem, which means womb. In Jewish thought, although both men and women are expected to be merciful and compassionate, the essential trait of compassion is considered to be a particular gift of women (and young girls).

Nearly a dozen years later, I've bought, worn and given away countless hats, scarves and wigs. And I still wear the simple black hat, whose purchase was motivated by the purity of my child's compassion.

Have you ever been moved by a child's sensitivity? Please share in the comments below.

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